


One Final Visit

by monachopsis_sighs



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angry Wilbur Soot, Angst, Dream Smp, Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Insane Wilbur Soot, Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP Spoilers (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Minecraft, Other, Post-Manberg Festival on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), The Button Room Dream Smp, Wilbur Soot Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:47:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29213649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monachopsis_sighs/pseuds/monachopsis_sighs
Summary: Days, no months had been spent carving out phrases into the walls of the button room and pacing the cramped space. It had been too many times to count that Wilbur Soot had visited there with plans to press the button, yet each time something had pulled him away. And this time was no different from the past instances.
Kudos: 5





	One Final Visit

**Author's Note:**

> Very brief blood mention, but detail isn't gone into. And obviously mentions of explosions and tnt.  
> If you're interested you can follow me on twitter at @SelcouthWinds where I'll post updates on my writing pieces and find ideas on what to do next.

Suffocation itself was straight forward; the state or process of dying from being deprived of air or unable to breathe, or a feeling of being trapped and oppressed. However the act itself came in many forms: shadows of survivors hidden in the depths of a ravine, in the powerful reach of a ruler, and within the walls of the Button Room.

The eerie quietness that haunted the space was interrupted at the sound of the stone entrance being slid to the side, a struggle evident. Once shut again a torch was lit, the sound of the wood lighting ablaze echoed off the walls. An orangish-yellow hue suddenly radiated through the space, there to guide his way along. As the man walked across the room, the light bounced off the surfaces of red, glowing tnt. They sat in stacks, collecting a thin layer of dust across their surface and between the spaces of each piece. Labels still kept in perfection, the words in a bold font across the front. A warning sign. Their stark white fuses were a sharp contrast against the rest of the ‘decorations’ that littered the walls.

Above each pile, and filling up the rest of the space, was one word after another. Evidence of a poison that had taken root deep in the mind of man until it had infected all that it touched in that dark, cold space. It wrapped around his hands that once hopelessly grasped onto an arrow as if their entire being depended on it, weeks, days, hours ago. On the walls he had carved, forcing his memory and thoughts into stone. 

_ ‘Go Emancipate the Brutality’ _

The phrase repeated itself, a record broken and shattered across stone. The shards finding themselves in every corner, as high as the cavern’s ceiling, and as low as the rough floors. Deeper and deeper they had been etched, the largest one in the center wall. Near the door the sentence trailed off. A piece of art not quite brought to completion. Whether by choice or force, it would remain unknown.  __   
  


_ ‘My L’Manburg’ _

Three stars in a row, a line on the top and bottom next to an attempted half circle. Frantic arrows and dashes connected the phrase to the drawing. Claiming ownership, almost a hint of fear seeping in through the cracks. A desperate attempt to connect what had been separated, to bring back the final piece of a lost puzzle. 

_ ‘I heard there was a special place’ _

Dried red stained the edges of the center most carving. It had pooled in the bottom of the words, holding on tight, before eventually falling victim to gravity and rolling down the smooth wall, leaving a clotted stain behind. Around the ground below were splinters, barely visible amongst the dust and rubble of stone, but a clear sign of a shattered tool. They too had their edges decorated with the darkened blood, leaving freckles of it on the floor around.

Wilbur’s muted brown eyes, void of anything except a sliver of something that could only be seen in the glint of fire, were stuck on one thing. His entire being was pulled towards it, as if an imaginary force was pulling him in, holding him captive. A wooden button, light in color and weight, had been wired into the wall. Though its appearance displayed innocence, what lay behind held the heavy truth. Miles of tnt, much like the ones that sat in the room, had been buried under the city. Under what used to be L’manburg. With a single click of the button, a split second decision, the land would go up in flames. Destroying all that had been created by the founders, all the memories that had been formed would fizzle away with the smoke. Nothing to remain but a crater of lost hopes.

He thought about how easy it would be, to just give into the weeks of tormenting thoughts. Just seconds and it would all be brought to completion. Reaching out, his gloved hand trembled as the tips of his fingers brushed against the dull surface. His thumb caught on the corner, holding steady there. The temptation was so strong, the urge to push it consuming him. It festered and bubbled, a boil seconds away from bursting in an impulse move to  **press the button** . Pushing softly, the corner of the square shifted down. A harsh gasp tumbled out from Wibur’s lips, giving away to a light chuckle. A rush of endorphins filled up his senses, the corners of his lips almost being tugged into a smile. It had gifted a momentary high, hovering in the air for a few seconds before dying back out, a halt in breath to tie in. Panicked, the man stumbled back from the wall. His shaking legs gave out, sending his thin frame into a stack of explosives. Bruises began to blossom at the base of his shoulder blades, the pain ignored as his eyes clouded over. 

It wasn’t the first time that he found himself in this position, in this room of sickening reminders. At this point it felt as if he was here more than the ravine, Pogtopia, or the hills that surrounded his supposed legacy. He couldn’t even begin to count the number of times he had paced the floor, debating and fighting the buzz of thoughts that resided within the dark shadows of his mind. The amount of times his hands had found a home on the surface of the button. How he had nearly pushed it to end the months of work everyone had devoted to building what used to be a sanctuary. What used to be his L’manburg. He had almost put it to death, the city to lie in the arms of Wilbur himself. The end of what was supposed to bring them together, against the tyranny of rulers, and brutality that plagued the lands. 

Steadying himself, Wilbur brought his body back up with the support of the wall. The torch had landed on the floor during his fall, rolling into one of the furthest corners. It sat there, a low blaze still burning and reflecting heavy shadows towards him. The sentences engraved onto the wall gaining an extra layer of terror with the change of lighting. Limping over, he managed to pick up the burnt, and nearly gone, piece of wood. Waving it across his vision one last time, he took a final glance at what his past self had left behind. It was supposed to be a reminder, for when weakness slipped into his mind during these long nights away from Tommy and Techno. Finding each line that was left there, he forced himself to go back to where he had come from no more than twenty minutes ago. His fingers traced the edges of the words along the way, pinpricks of stone only adding to the numbness that was creeping down his body. 

“Next time, L’manburg, I won’t be so kind” he muttered, eyes glued to the button. “I’ll make sure that I do what I need to, and that no one will have you if I can’t.”

With that the dirtied stone door was pulled back to cover back up Wilbur’s room. Hidden from view and knowledge, yet in the center of it all. For another night it lay in wait for the fated day to arrive. November 16th.


End file.
